“Bring them by the training facility and I’d be happy to. In fact, bring the girls with you. They could watch a few sessions. I might have some rodeo passes sitting around, too, for the next event if you think they might like that.”
The maintenance man grinned from ear to ear. “Boy, would they ever.”
* * *
THE COAST WAS CLEAR.
Gracie gathered her courage, slipped out of the storage room, hurried through the kitchen and moved down the hallway toward the ladies’ room at the far end.
She needed a few minutes to herself before she headed back out to the bake sale and the curious faces and the hot gossip that Jesse James Chisholm had been shoplifting brownies and cakes.
As if.
Jesse would never do such a thing, even if he had destroyed a few goodies in the name of some really hot sex.
Heat swamped her as she remembered the frosting on her nipple, followed by his lips. And his tongue. And...
Sheesh, it was hot in here.
She pushed inside the restroom, hit the lock button on the door and made her way to the sink. A second later, she splashed cold water on her face and tried to understand what had just happened.
She’d hopped up onto the table and had sex with Jesse James Chisholm just inches away from a very nosy group of constituents.
Even more, she’d liked it.
She liked him.
She ditched the last thought and focused on grabbing a wad of paper towels to blot at her face.
She didn’t like him. Like involved a connection that went beyond the physical. It involved shared interests and mutual respect and admiration. It meant understanding someone’s hopes and dreams and—
Okay, so she liked him. A little.
He was a strong, compassionate man. A man who put family first. Who went after what he wanted. A man with hopes and dreams and determination.
A man with a future that did not involve Lost Gun or her or what they’d just shared.
Before she could dwell on the suddenly depressing thought, her cell phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket and hit the Talk button.
“Hey, sis,” Charlie’s voice floated over the line. “What’s up?”
“My sugar level.” She reached for another paper towel and dabbed at the water running down her neck. “I’m up to my elbows in brownies and cookies.”
“A bake sale?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Sounds like a blast. Listen, I just wanted to make sure you got my message about this weekend. I hate to cancel on you, but I’ve got a lot going right now and—”
“Sure.” Why the hell was it still so hot in here?
“—I really don’t have time to drive all the way to Lost Gun just to make homemade pizzas, even though they’re like the best pizzas in the world and you’re the best and—what did you just say?”
“We can do it some other time.” Gracie blew out a deep breath and made a mental note to ask Trina to have James Lee check the main air conditioning unit. “Don’t worry about it.” She tossed the used paper towels and tried to ignore the rush of heat as she stared into the mirror and noticed that she’d missed one of the buttons on her shirt.
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“Of course not.”
“Yes, you are,” Charlie insisted, obviously startled when Gracie didn’t launch into a ten-minute lecture about how she’d bought all the pizza ingredients and pulled out the Monopoly board.
She would have. She would have reminded her sister about all the details and how much fun they would have being together, but suddenly the only thing she could think of was how hot it was and how she desperately needed to calm down and how she really needed to forget Jesse Chisholm.
And the fact that she liked him.
“You’re mad and worried,” Charlie went on, “but I’m not a little girl anymore. I know how to take care of myself. I won’t be out late and I’ll be super careful and—”
“I know you will. Call me later.” She killed the connection before her sister could ask another question.
And then she concentrated on redoing her shirt and returning to the real world without thinking about Jesse Chisholm and the all-important fact that she couldn’t wait to see him again.
15
HE WAS FRIGGIN’ CRAZY.
That was the only explanation for the fact that the more Jesse James Chisholm touched Gracie Stone, the more he kissed her and slid deep, deep inside, the more he wanted to do it again and again and again.
Crazy, all right.
While he managed to get himself up and out of bed the morning after, it wasn’t getting easier the way he’d expected. The way he’d hoped.
He stood beside the bed early Friday morning—four days after he’d first gotten her into his bed—and stared down at her luscious body spread out on his plain cotton sheets. Instead of the motel, they’d been keeping company in his apartment at the training facility. Away from prying eyes and the horde of reporters camped out at the motel.
He left the tack room and headed for the main corral. He had to give her up. He told himself that as he checked the feeding troughs. He had to give her up and forget about their time together and start thinking about the future. About Austin and his next ride and—
“Jesse!”
The name rang out and scattered his thoughts the minute he spotted the woman on the opposite side of the railing.
“Hey there, Wendy.” He climbed over the railing and headed around to where she stood. “Pete’s not here. I dropped him off on your doorstep myself last night after the bachelor party.”
“I know, and thanks for not getting too wild and crazy. He said you kept it low-key.”
He hadn’t meant to. He’d meant to take Pete over to Luscious Longhorns and get them both as drunk as skunks. But Pete had been more interested in texting Wendy and Jesse had been more interested in getting back to Gracie, and so they’d left Cole and Billy and Jimmy and Jake to tie one on and close the place down.
“I’m not looking for Pete,” she went on. “I’m looking for you. I need a favor.”
“I really need to get going. I promised Eli I’d—”
“It’s my cousin. She’s flying in for the wedding this afternoon and I need someone to pick her up.”
“I’ll get one of the boys to drive out—”
“And take her to the wedding. And keep her company.”
“I’m sure Joe or Sam or—”
“I need you, Jesse. I was thinking you could be her date for the wedding.”
“But I already have a date.”
“You do?”
That’s right, buddy. You do?
Okay, so he didn’t actually have a date, but he wanted one. He wanted to ask Gracie to be his date. The thing was, he wasn’t one hundred percent positive she would say yes. When it came to sex, he knew she couldn’t resist him. But this was different. This wasn’t about being lovers. It was about being companions. Friends. And to a man who’d been judged and shunned most of his life, those were much harder to come by. Gracie had called it quits and turned her back on him once before. He wasn’t going to be blindsided again.
“It’s not one of the Barbies, is it?” Wendy went on. “I know they’re a lot of fun, but I thought you might want to meet someone with a little substance. Someone more long term—”
“Okay, I’ll do it.” He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Text me the flight information and I’ll see to it she gets to the motel in one piece. And the wedding.” And then he turned and walked away before he did something really stupid—like change his mind.
Gracie wasn’t dating material. What they had was purely physical and very, very temporary. She’d made that clear from the get-go. Not that he wanted anything m
ore permanent. Hell, he was leaving in two days. No strings. No regrets.
That meant ignoring the feelings churning deep in his gut and laying the past to rest once and for all.
He wasn’t falling for her all over again.
Not this time.
Never, ever again.
* * *
THE WOMAN WAS driving him to drink.
Jesse finished off the last of his second beer and reached for number three as he watched Gracie two-step around the dance floor with one of Pete’s ranch hands. Even dressed in a plain beige skirt and a matching jacket that did nothing to accent the luscious curves hidden beneath, she looked good enough to eat. With every turn, the skirt pulled and tugged across her round ass. With every dip, the bodice of her jacket shifted and he glimpsed the full swells of her breasts. A thin line of perspiration dotted her forehead, making her face glow. Her lips were full and pink and parted in a smile—
Hell’s bells, she was smiling at the two-bit cowboy. She wasn’t supposed to be doing that. She wasn’t even supposed to be here. Her name hadn’t been anywhere near the guest list and so he’d been more than a little shocked when she’d waltzed up to him, flashed a press pass, snapped a picture and said, “June Silsbee, the about-town photographer for the newspaper, is sick. I’m filling in for her.”
Only she wasn’t standing around on the fringes, snapping pictures for the world to see. No, she was having fun. Dancing. Laughing. Smiling.
Jesse latched onto beer number four as the song played down and Gracie traded Pete’s ranch hand and the two-step for Eli and a popular line dance.
She twirled and wiggled her ass and smiled—holy crap, there she was smiling again. And winking. And at a man old enough to be her father.
Not that Jesse had any room to talk. He’d let Wendy fix him up with the brunette sitting next to him. A mistake if he’d ever made one. While she was nice enough, she wasn’t Gracie.
And the problem is?
No problem, he told himself for the umpteenth time, shifting his attention to the woman and trying to focus on whatever she was saying. Something about the bridesmaids’ dresses and how pretty everything had been and what a great time she was having.
“Would you excuse me for just a second?” A few seconds later, he left Lisa or Lynette or whatever her name was staring after him as he headed for the bar and did his damnedest to ignore the sexy blonde who floated around the dance floor.
“Beer?” the bartender asked, but Jesse shook his head.
“I need something stronger.” A split second later the man pulled a jar of clear liquid from behind the bar and held it up. Jesse nodded and reached for the homemade moonshine.
He was on swig number three when Billy cut in for a waltz with Gracie. Jesse’s hands tightened on the jar and he fought the urge to rush over, pull Gracie into his arms and make her smile and wink at him. An urge he managed to resist until Billy closed the few inches that separated them. Jesse forgot all about his moonshine.
“Don’t you have your own date?” He tapped his brother on the shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be dancing with her?”
“Are you kidding?” He motioned to Casey Jessup, who sat near the bar, her elbow planted on top, her entire focus on the man she was currently arm-wrestling. “She hates to dance.”
“So go referee the match for her.” He elbowed his way in between them, his gaze fixed on the surprised woman who stared back at him.
“Don’t you have your own date?” Gracie arched an eyebrow as he pulled her close.
“It’s not an official date. I’m just keeping her company for Wendy.”
“You’re doing a piss-poor job considering you’re here with me.”
“I want to dance.” He slid a possessive arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“A special batch of white lightning.”
She pulled back. “Big Earl’s white lightning?”
“Something like that.” His gaze caught and held hers. “You look really nice.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Not drunk enough. I don’t like it when you dance with other men.”
“Then you should have asked me to be your date instead of bringing someone else.”
“It’s not a date.”
“It sure looks like a date.”
“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He stared deep into her eyes. “I should have asked you to come with me, but I didn’t. I thought I needed some distance. But it doesn’t matter if you’re clear across the room or right next to me, I still want you the same.” He saw the flash of surprise in her gaze. “I need you.” He pressed a kiss to her soft lips before pulling her close. She seemed stiff at first, as if she didn’t believe him. But then just like that, her body seemed to relax. She inched closer. And the rest of the world faded and they started to dance.
* * *
GRACIE HAD WON the battle, but not the war, she realized later that night when she rolled over after several hours of Jesse’s fast and furious lovemaking to find the bed next to her warm but empty. As usual. Instead of the motel, he’d taken her to the training facility and the comfy full-size bed that filled up the bedroom of the small apartment that sat over his office. She heard him moving around in the next room—the creak of the chair as he yanked on his boots, the slide of change as he loaded his pockets, the clink of a coffee cup as he finished his last swallow. He was leaving her again. It was still dark, still a long way until sunrise, and Jesse was heading out to practice the way he had last night and the night before.
Admiration crept through her, along with a surge of anxiety. This was it. It was well past midnight, which meant that Saturday had come and gone and it was officially Sunday morning. The wedding was over and there was nothing keeping Jesse in Lost Gun. He would pick up and head for Austin first thing tomorrow morning. Even more, she would take her oath of office and assume the role of mayor.
It was now or never. Otherwise, she would never really know if she’d meant more to him than just a casual fling. If after today he would at least think about her every now and then. Remember her. And she would remember him. She pulled on his tuxedo shirt, snatched up the camera she’d been using at the wedding and started for the adjoining room. She wanted, needed, a place in Jesse Chisholm’s memory since she couldn’t claim a place in his heart.
* * *
JESSE HAD JUST retrieved a blanket from the tack room and walked back to the corral when the gate creaked open and he heard the camera click.
His entire body went on high alert when he caught sight of her—her long blond hair tousled, her face soft and flushed from sleep, her lips swollen from his kisses. She clasped her camera in one hand and a pang of nostalgia went through him. She wore only his white tuxedo shirt and an old worn pair of his boots. The shirt stopped mid-thigh, revealing long, sexy-as-hell legs. He felt a stir in his groin despite the fact that he should have had his fill of her by now.
He was full. Sated. Sick.
That was what he told himself, but damned if he felt it as she walked into the barn. The tuxedo shirt, unbuttoned to reveal the swell of her luscious breasts, teased him with each step. She snapped a few more pictures of him, the click, click, click keeping time with the sudden beat of his heart.
Work, he told himself, forcing his gaze away, determined to get back to work. He headed for the mechanical bull sitting off to the side of the rodeo arena where he’d been adjusting the settings. He leaned down and reached up under the backside of the bull to change the speed and friction. Harder. Faster. That’s what he needed right now.
Unfortunately, harder and faster weren’t the two words to be thinking of at the moment. Not with her so close.
He felt her gaze and every nerve in his body cracked to attention. He frowned. He was in the homestretch.
No more wanting what he couldn’t have. No more Gracie.
As relieved as the thought should have made him, the only thing he felt at that moment was desperation. To get back to work, he reminded himself. He was desperate to get the hell out of Lost Gun and head to Austin. End of story.
“What are you doing out here?” he asked gruffly.
“Same as you.” She hooked her camera over a nearby corral post. Boots crunched as she neared the mechanical bull. “I thought I’d take a ride.”
The words drew his gaze and he found her standing on the opposite side of the bull. “I hate to break it to you, sugar, but you can’t ride.”
“Maybe not at this moment, but practice makes perfect.” Her eyes glittered. Her full lips curved into a half smile that did funny things to his heartbeat. “This is a training facility, right?”
“Last time I looked.”
“So train me.” She gripped the saddle horn, swung a sexy leg over and mounted up. “I’m all yours.”
If only.
He shook away the thought and swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat. “You’re serious?”
“As serious as Old Lady Mitchell’s last heart attack.”
He eyed her for a moment more before he shrugged. “All right, then.” He motioned to the side. “Put your right hand in the grip.”
She slid her fingers under the leather strap. “What next?”
“Put your left up in the air.”
“Okay.”
“Now arch your back.”
She thrust her breasts forward and an invisible fist punched in right in the sternum. “What now?”
He drew in some much needed air and tried to keep his voice calm. “Hold on tight.”
He flipped the switch and the bull started to rock back and forth, this way and that.
“Mmm...” She closed her eyes at the subtle motion and a smile touched her lips. “Now I know why you cowboys spend so much time doing this.”
“I don’t think it’s the same for us cowboys. Different parts.”
Her eyes snapped open then and her passion-filled gaze met his. “I know.” The bull kept moving and her eyelids drifted shut again. She threw her head back, her eyes closed, her lips parted as she leaned back and rocked her lower body, following the motion of the bull.
Texas Outlaws: Jesse Page 14